


(a virtue) of the brave

by thisissirius



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: Disjointed, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-13
Updated: 2017-04-13
Packaged: 2018-10-18 14:37:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10618992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisissirius/pseuds/thisissirius
Summary: Robert wants his mum.Robert hatedhis dad, hates that he can’t let him go, hates.Robert hates himself, loves himself, scares himself.Robert’s the sum of his parts, but never a whole, never gets to be a Person, always feels like he’s pulled in a million different directions and doesn’t know how to make everything fit.Robert wants hismum.





	

**Author's Note:**

> written for laura for her birthday :>
> 
> sorry it's late <3

“I’ll be right here,” his mum says, smiles, does.

Until she doesn’t anymore.

 

 

Robert wants his mum.

Robert hate _d_ his dad, hates that he can’t let him go, hates.

Robert hates himself, loves himself, scares himself.

Robert’s the sum of his parts, but never a whole, never gets to be a Person, always feels like he’s pulled in a million different directions and doesn’t know how to make everything fit.

Robert wants his _mum_.

 

 

("I just wanted a mum," he thinks he told her, pressed into the corner of the sofa. It felt too soft against his skin, had made him want to throw up. "I thought that would be you and then I did <that> and you didn't care, didn't want me."

She'd looked at him, eyes round, still so angry. "He was my _son_."

"I spent weeks looking after everything, making sure he had something to come home to. He told me that was useless, <I> was useless." Fingers curled into his sleeves, eyes on the floor, her shoes, the table. Anywhere but at her. "I used to think that was all I'd ever be; useless, that people only want me for what I can give them. I never felt like _me_. Until Aaron."

There'd been a softer look on her face then, eyes still hard and distant.

"I'm sorry, Chas," he'd said, lips tingling, leg tapping a rhythm he can't remember now against the floor. "I tried to be better but I can't stop making things worse.")

 

 

They're worse now.

Robert presses his forehead to the door, hears harsh breathing behind him. He ignores it, runs fingers over his palm once, twice, three times. Aaron's face. Chas'. _Liv's_.

"Robert, mate, _please_."

Robert's handled a gun before. He remembers looking Aaron in the eye, would never have pulled the trigger. He remembers looking Ross in the eye, and might have. Would now. Except.

"I'm sorry, Rob, I am."

Robert's heart feels too big for his chest. He can't breathe, wonders if this is what dying feels like. Swallowing, he taps the gun against his hip, stares around the room.

The Mill looks great.

The Mill was supposed to be _it_.

Robert's ruined it. He's always ruining things. Like Aaron. Vic. Everything, everything, everything.

"I didn't mean to hurt her."

There's a knock on the door, shouts and distinct voices. They can't get in; Robert's sure he's blocked them out, of the building if not out of his head.

 

 

(The Mill.

Robert sounds the word out in his mouth again and again and again as he walks from the bedroom, from the living room, from the house. Sounds out the word, sounds out the name of the house he’s about the lose, thinks of the rumpled sheets, the smell of _her_ over him and on him, and thinks of Aaron’s face when Robert says, _I slept with Rebecca_.

In our bed.)

 

 

The bed is still in the room.

Robert wants to throw up. He tried to burn it but Aaron won't let him, keeps trying to tell him he needs to talk about it, needs to _face it_. Robert can't face it, can't believe he ever-

"Did you know she left me here," Robert says, feels bile rise in his throat as he presses the barrel of the gun against the pillow. "She let me wake up and believe I did _that_ to Aaron."

Silence.

"She never fucked me." Robert hates her, wants to crawl out of his skin and erase this room from his memory. "I don't even remember anything. I was sat there," swivels round, gun waving between the wall and the bed, "and woke up here."

"Mate, I'm sorry."

"I'm not your mate," Robert starts, thinks about Aaron. "Did you ever fuck in here?"

"What? No, Robert, that's-"

"Crazy?" Silence. "Aaron thinks I'm crazy, you know. Thinks I'm losing it." Robert thinks he might be, too. Can't really think in straight lines anymore. "Maybe I am."

"Let me out. Vic wouldn't-"

Robert's hand shakes around the gun. "Stop."

"Please let me out. She wouldn't want this."

 

 

"Robert, open the door."

("Robert, open the door."

Robert can't, back pressed to wood, the shower running but he can't make himself get in, can't wash it off, can't wash her off, can't stop.

"Let me help you.")

"Let me help you."

"You can't," Robert says. "Aaron can't. Nobody can."

Silence. "This _is_ Aaron, Robert."

Liar. "Aaron left."

Silence. A choked sound. Maybe a laugh? Robert doesn't know anymore, sees <Adam> wince, give Robert a sympathetic look. Like _Robert’s_ the one that needs help.

"I didn't. Robert, I've been here all along."

Has he? Robert turns to the door, imagines Aaron on the other side. His chest hurts. The gun shakes in his fingers, the barrel knocking against his thigh.

"He left," Robert says again, tongue heavy. He feels sick again, Aaron's face twisting into hate, anger, hate, anger, _hate_. "He can't trust me."

"Robert," not!Aaron says again. "Please, Rob, _please_ open the door."

"Robert," a softer voice, she's here, _Vic_. "Please let me in."

Robert approaches the door, rests the gun against the dresser. "He hurt you, hurt me, made me think this was _me_."

“I know,” Vic says, whispers. Crying, she’s crying, was crying. Maybe she’s stopped? Robert doesn’t want her hurt, wants to make her smile, he loves her smile. “Robert, please, don’t hurt him.”

“Why?” Why, why, why.

Silence.

Silence. Silence.

“Because it’s not you.”

Liar.

“Shut up,” Robert snaps, hates the way not!Aaron sounds. Hates that not!Aaron makes his chest hurt, makes him want to dig the palms of his hands into his eyes, makes him want to give in. He won’t, can’t.

 

 

(“It’s yours.”)

Robert feels too hot, too much, not enough.

(“I’m keeping it.”)

“Adam, are you alright?”

(“The clinic confirmed my dates. I’m sorry.”)

“He’s got a gun.”

(“You need to tell Aaron. This isn’t going away.”)

“He won’t use it.”

(“I slept with Adam.”)

“Tell that to _him_.”

(“The baby isn’t yours.”)

 

 

“The baby wasn’t mine,” Robert says.

“I know,” Adam says. Angry, angry, angry.

Robert looks at him, smiles, gun resting against his knee. “I told Aaron, confessed, told him I fucked her here, told him I didn’t know what happened. He didn’t believe me. ‘Course he didn’t. Who would. That’s me. _Cheater_.”

“Robert, look, I-“

“You’re that too though, right? A cheater and Vic still took you back.”

Adam stares at him. Robert wants to punch him, wants Adam to punch him, wants, wants, wants.

“How many times can you hurt her before she stops taking you back? How many people can you hurt, how many times can you hate yourself and do something _stupid_ before she stops loving you and wants you gone and hates you and can’t-“

“What are you talking about?”

“Me.” Robert closes his eyes but it doesn’t stop him seeing Aaron’s face, disappointed, angry, sad, hurt, always wrong, never right.

_I’m talking about me._

 

 

_I hate you._

Robert stares out of the window. The driveway of the Mill is full. Villagers. Neighbours. Family. Friends. None of the above.

_I hate me_.

Chas. Charity. Cain.

“How many of them have cheated on someone?”

_I wish I could change myself._

Silence. Robert _hates_ the silence. It fills too much space, makes his skin crawl.

Doug. Diane.

_I wish instead of my mother that I-_

 

 

"Mum would hate me," Robert says, hand on the door.

"She wouldn't, love."

"She would." Robert imagines Chas on the other side, eyes still hard and angry. "I didn't mean to, Chas. I love Aaron."

Silence.

"I swear, Chas," Robert says, voice broken, thinks the words don't even make it out of his mouth.

"Open the door, Sugden."

"Shut up," Chas says. "Let me talk to him before you do anything stupid."

"Stop acting like I'm not here," Robert snaps, kicks the dresser. "I'm here, I've <been> here. I was here when you were off acting like Aaron didn't need you. I needed you and you didn't care then. You only care now because I've got _him_ in here. What about  <me>?"

Silence.

"I care about you," Chas says.

"No you don't," Robert says, staring back at Adam. "You don't care about _me_ , you only care about what I do to Aaron."

"Robert, sweetheart, of course I care. I'm worried about you."

It's not true. She can't be worried, she never is, just waits for Robert to screw up like everyone else. Because he will. He does. He can't stop. Robert stares at Adam. "You mess up and they still love you."

Adam looks angry, mouth twisted like Robert's head feels. "Mate, they _hate_ me right now."

"They won't forever," Robert tells him. He knows they won't. Adam's too good. Not like him. Not like him never like him Aaron could never. "Aaron'll love you and even Vic. She has before. They all will. Why can't they love me?"

Adam's face shifts. Pity.

"Don't look at me like that." Robert shouts, probably. Doesn't know. Spins on his heel.

"Robert?" Chas. Where's Aaron? "Robert, sweetheart, don't do anything okay?"

"Why?" Robert says. Thinks about opening the door, punching Adam, punching himself.

Silence. "I don't want you to hurt yourself."

Why not? "Why not? I deserve it."

"Why?"

"I hurt everyone." Robert whispers, shouts, says. "I hurt <everyone>."

"Not me," Chas says. "You've never hurt me."

Robert opens his mouth to say _Katie,_ the hitman, wanting to _hurt_ her, and then shuts it again. He presses a hand back to the door. His fingers shake, his hand shakes, everything shakes. "I have. Don't lie."

"Not for a long, long time, Robert. You made me _disappointed_.”

"I'm sorry," Robert says immediately. His body feels weird, too tight, too small. "I want to make it up to you."

"Open the door, okay?"

"No."

"Robert, please, I want to see you. I want to make sure you're okay."

He wants it, wants it, can imagine her doing it, but nobody ever wants to, not really.

"You don't." Robert takes a step back. "You can't."

"Have I ever lied to you?"

Robert wants to say yes but he can't. He lies. He lies so many times, so many ways, but Chas never has, not to him, never to him. "Chas."

"I know, Robert. Open the door, love."

Robert wraps his fingers around the door handle, shoves it down. "Just you, Chas."

"Alright. Just me."

 

 

_(Look at me_.

“I slept with Rebecca.”

_Look at me._

“I don’t remember. I was drunk wanted to hurt you because you hurt me and I called her. She came. I don’t _remember_.”

_Look at me_.

“What use am I to you?”

_Look at me._

“What use am I to anyone?”

_Look. At. Me._

“Leave me alone.”

_Robert, look at me._

“Please don’t leave me.”

_Hey._ A hand to his chin, fingers trembling against his face, anger so much anger. _We’ll work this out, okay?_ )

 

 

“The baby wasn’t mine,” Robert says.

“I know,” Chas says.

“I wanted to tell him,” Robert snaps.

“I know,” Chas says.

“I,“ Robert starts.

“I know,” Chas says. “It’s okay.”

 

 

Chas’ hands are warm. Her lips are soft against his hairline. Her arms are strong.

Robert remembers every hug his mother ever gave him. More than ten. He remembers every hug his father ever gave him. Less than ten. He remembers every hug Chas ever gave him. Less than ten. But maybe.

This one’s long, small, short, soft.

“I’m sorry,” Robert says, into the curve of Chas’ shoulder.

Chas tightens her grip, fingers sliding over Robert’s arm, his hand, the gun.

Robert lets it go, lets it _go_.

“It’s alright,” Chas says.

Something hard hits the floor.

 

 

Something hard hits the floor.

Robert’s knees, slipping away from Chas, everything hurts.

Chas moves. Robert wants to follow, wants her to hug him, hit him.

Silence.

Sounds.

Robert shakes, fingers wrapped tight around the sleeves of his jacket.

Adam’s talking. Vic’s crying. Someone’s cursing.

Aaron.

“I think there’s something wrong with me.” Robert sounds the words out slowly, carefully. Stares up at Aaron. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“I know.” Aaron drops to his knees, hand touching Robert’s face. It’s shaking. He looks sad.

Robert wants to help, wants to make it better. “I’m sorry. I always hurt you.”

“Robert.” Aaron sounds hurt, sounds angry.

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop _saying_ that.”

 

 

(“Stop saying sorry!”

“Is it yours?”

“I’m _angry_.”

“I can’t forgive you, not right now.”

“What are you talking about?”

“What do you mean _Adam_?”

“Robert, Robert, wait!”)

 

 

Robert doesn’t know what to _do_.

 

 

“We’re gonna get you help, alright?” Aaron’s eyes are wet.

“Like you?” Robert thinks of the counsellor, of Aaron’s silence the days he goes.

“Yeah, like me.” Aaron brushes a hand over Robert’s head, threads fingers into his hair.

“I’m scared.”

A dam breaks. Robert’s eyes burn, his throat feels thick, his skin too hot.

Aaron tugs him in, holds him tighter than Chas, so tight Robert feels tethered for the first time in days, weeks, years. “I’ll be here.”

Here.

The Mill.

Adam.

“He made me think it was _mine_ ,” Robert says, shakes.

“It’s not.” Aaron holds his face, firm, strong, unyielding. Safe. _Safe_. “It’s not yours. She’s gone.”

 

 

(“It’s not yours. I’m sorry I lied. I was terrified and I wanted to _hurt_ you. Adam was – Adam loved Victoria and I knew that and I – Robert? Robert where are you going?”)

 

 

“I’m sorry.”

“I know,” Aaron says. “I forgive you.”

 

 

Robert shakes his head, wants to pull away, wants to leave.

“ _I forgive you_ ,” Aaron repeats, holds Robert tight and presses his lips to Robert’s ear. “I forgive you.”

 

 

Robert cries. Buries his face in Aaron’s shoulder. Let’s himself bleed.

 

 

“I’ll be right here.” Aaron says, shows, _does_.

Again.

And again.

And again.

**Author's Note:**

> join me on [tumblr :)](http://sapphicsugden.tumblr.com)


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